The Continued Calamity
by Polyonymous Smith
Summary: "If my death would be that fascinating, then I don't mind if the calamity violently consume my life as well…"


He sprinted as he heard footsteps coming from the library. He didn't care anymore if he can't find their friend; he valued his life more than anyone else in their class. And he doesn't plan on letting an uncanny entity steal his chance to live like a normal high school student.

Sweat continuously rolled down his face, panting as he halted and let himself catch his breath. He rested his hand on the wall and slowly sat down on the floor. He brushed his sweat-drenched hair away from his weary eyes. "I have to look for a safe place to hide…" he muttered to no one in particular.

He closed his eyes as if contemplating something. "I'm exhausted… When will this calamity ever end?" He sighed as he stood up from his place. "I have to keep running."

With his regained vigor, he started running not looking back, afraid to see something horrifying. He ran and ran, counting every step he made and kept reminding himself that this is nothing but a dream—that he was capable of anything, like the heroes from T.V. shows he watched when he was younger—convincing himself that he controls this dream and he can stop this nightmare anytime.

He was nearing the exit when he felt a hard object hit his back with such force. He stopped in mid tracks and slowly turned around. He looked down and found a bodiless head resting near his feet.

It was only then that he realized that the floor was surrounded by a puddle of crimson liquid coming from the lifeless form that hit his back moments ago. Its eyes were wide open so unrealistically. It is as if it spent its last breath desperately screaming for help. Its mouth was crooked with a demented smile as if it enjoyed its way of dying. Looking at the face's expression made him grimace. It felt so off. Its eyes were pleading for help while its mouth was smiling.

He backed a few steps not taking his eyes off of the head. It was downright gruesome, but in the corner of his mind he was actually admiring the ghastly form. It was enthralling to see such a beautiful red adorn a grotesque face. His mouth curved into a small smile. He sat across it as he continued to subconsciously compliment the blood-stained figure. He reached his hand toward the face and slowly caressed its cold cheek. The physical contact sent shivers down his spine as he was left from a frenzied trance. He withdrew his hand away and gazed at the thick, crimson blood that stained his palm. His smile grew wider.

He stayed like that for a few minutes before he finally continued to run. _"If my death would be that fascinating, then I don't mind if the calamity violently consume my life as well…"_ He thought.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the school's exit. _"I guess it's not my time to die yet after all." _He grinned. Cautiously, he opened the gate and hurriedly went outside. He stared at the old school building remembering his encounter with someone's _head. _He was about to leave when a vehicle went out of control and ran over him.

The road was surprisingly isolated; no sign of life was detected when the incident happened. His legs were twisted in an indescribable way as it created a pool of blood. His upper body was lying not far away from his severed, flattened arm; the muscles along with its thick red liquid squelched off from its skin looked surprisingly like toothpaste squeezed from its tube. Its ring finger constantly twitched with a beat as if it tried to catch attention.

He saw his scattered body parts; shockingly he didn't felt any pain. He wasn't even horrified of seeing his poorly state. In fact, he was overjoyed. Overly joyed that he had a more glamorous death than his colleague he met hours ago.

He tried to contain his laugh by grinning. He was gradually losing his eyesight when a familiar lady stood in front of him. She smiled. "If my death would be this fascinating, then I don't mind if the calamity violently consume my life as well…"


End file.
